


Seer of the Night Wolf

by LaChiffon



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Curses, Dark Fantasy, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Gay, High Fantasy, Jealousy, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Romance, Shapeshifting, Slash, Violence, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaChiffon/pseuds/LaChiffon
Summary: The chief is dead.While prince Ivar tries in vain to hunt down the monstrous black wolf that has been charged with the murder, Ruva discovers more then he bargains for after sneaking out one night. The wolf is a man cursed to shift into such a being by a malevolent witch and sympathetic Ruva can't resist bringing him home to nurse old wounds. When the jealous prince finds out about the stranger's identity and sentences him to death, Ruva has to decide if he is willing to sacrifice everything to save him.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Seer of the Night Wolf

“Make a left here.” Ruva directed softly with a shiver. One hand wrapped around the waist of Prince Ivar to steady himself and the other pulled his fur-lined robes close to his body. He pouted childishly as he ruminated on the thought that Ivar had not found him worthy of having a horse of his own. He tired of being treated as if he were fragile by the prince, who would not let him out of sight whenever he was allowed to venture outside the wards that enclosed their village. He had yet to even leave the wards without permission from the chief or his family and someone accompanying him.

Ivar steered his horse as directed while gesturing for the other men to follow. The crackle of ice beneath hooves was audible in the deathly silence of the woods. Despite it being midday, the area had darkened considerably underneath the canopy of trees as if they were approaching night. Only the occasional rays of light managed to pierce through the leaves which blocked out the sun. The shrubbery that survived the winter chill and broke through the ice was sparse and quickly eaten away by the deer that lingered about. 

“Ruva.” Came Ivar’s voice, rising above the sounds of the men behind them. Ubbe, a lanky blonde who rode further back, was brandishing a knife to illustrate one of his tall tales, then quickly tugged at the reins of his horse before he could fall off the tiny, skittish mare. Gisla gave a hearty laugh and the others had begun joking with one another to alleviate boredom during their search of the forest. 

The prince’s impatience and annoyance at the rowdy bunch was quite clear. He'd groaned low and angry when Ruva hadn't granted him an answer, but he tried his best to wait for further direction. 

Ruva closed his eyes, blocking out everyone else and listening to subtle changes in the air, for the wind carried the voices of the dead and they directed his path. While not malicious like the mistwalkers who prowled under the cover of the early morning fog, they still filled Ruva with discomfort at the sound of their wailing, each one longing to return to the land of the living. The temperature seemed to drop further, the weakening of his barriers making the presence of the spirits and the cold that much more noticeable.

“Continue straight.” He finally said with a roll of his eyes. They'd just changed direction, Ruva had doubted the spirits would lead him to think they should go anywhere but straight on this new path. It further frustrated him that with the way Ivar demanded this of him. He seemed to think it was so easy to hear the dead. He knew not of all the skill and concentration such a task required. 

They continued forward for a short time before sudden panicked whinnies from the horse pulled Ruva out of his stupor. As it bolted upright, he inhaled sharply, startled by the sudden movement.

He risked leaning off to the side to get a better view of the front as Ivar tried to calm his horse. Ruva held on tightly to the man while searching the area with his eyes, but his view was obscured by Ivar’s entourage, who had hurried to the front to enclose them in a protective circle as they withdrew their weapons.

Through the gaps in their formation, Ruva's eyes were immediately drawn to the bright orbs peering at him through the darkness. A beast stood before them, a wolf large as a horse and growling low with its teeth bared. The blood painting its muzzle was nearly invisible against the blackness of its fur. One of the men on horseback raised his bow and took aim, which only served to signal for the wolf to retreat. Its ears pressed back and a sudden silence followed before it turned and ran deeper into the maze of trees the moment the first arrow was shot. 

Ivar, grasping the reins so hard his knuckles turned white, turned his gaze to the man next to him and huffed, “Well?! Go after him!” He gestured towards the rest. “Kalf and Solvej, stay with me. The rest of you go, don’t let that beast get away!”

“Finally some action, I was getting bored!” Gisla sent her horse barreling into the forest and was swiftly followed by four others while Ivar dismounted. Ruva broke from his trance and his eyes darted down to the ice below, following Ivar before he noticed a body lying half covered in snow. He relaxed, his bodying having tensed up during the brief encounter, then dismounting as well and stepped close to the figure.

The first thing he noticed was how much flesh had been torn away, exposing the bone. The wound at the neck was especially horrific and the echoes of death on the wind made him sick. Ruva could hear the man’s last moments, screams muffled until they became gurgling gasps from the overflow of blood. He covered his mouth, his stomach threatening to expel his lunch. "Gross." He said under his breath, hopeful that Ivar had not heard him as he realized the identity of the corpse.

The face was still intact. His lined, wrinkled features and neatly trimmed beard, those bright blue eyes still wide with fear. It was enough for anyone to tell who this dead man was. Before Ruva himself could voice their identity, Ivar shouted, the panic in his grief-stricken voice unfamiliar, “Father!”

He had dropped to his knees, brows furrowed in hurt and sorrow as his hands were brought to the face of the dead man. Then he quickly tried to uncover the remainder of the body which had long ago gone stiff in the cold. Ruva thought it laughable. He’d known Ivar all his life. The man would mourn for the night and move on by the next day. Ivar was so ambitious despite his constant failings that Ruva had no doubt he would be scheming by the morning on becoming chief.

Still, Ruva played his part and ran a hand along his back slowly, deliberately, to console him. “We must hurry and bring him back, give him a funeral so that he doesn’t become a vengeful spirit.” 

Ivar took a deep breath, as if calming himself so that he would not break down completely in front of his men, then stood. ““Kalf. Solvej.” He need not give them orders, for they knew their task. The two approached the body, whispering among themselves the best manner of transport when they were interrupted by sudden shouts from nearby, a scream of agony.

Ivar had turned his gaze on the darkness of the forest, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword and his bloodlust palpable. “They need our help.” Ivar mounted his horse, “The two of you take my father’s body back to the village.” His gaze settled on Ruva for a moment before he spoke again, “And take Ruva with you. Make sure he gets back safely.”

“No!” He protested, tired of being forced to watch instead of joining the fray. This was the closest he’d ever come to joining a hunt, to being able to use the dagger that hung from his belt. “Let me come with you.”

“Oh? What can you do in a battle?” Ivar snorted, “Go home, you’ve done enough for today. I can’t afford to let you get hurt.” 

“And I won’t! I’m good with the knife, you’ve seen me-” Ruva reached for the hilt of his dagger to demonstrate but was swiftly cut off by the prince, who’d given him an indignant look, “You’ve never seen real battle, you’ve only been out here a handful of times. Enough of this, go home.” Then with a kick of his heel, he led his horse deeper into the forest, slow trot turning into a swift gallop.

Ruva watched him go with fists balled and face contorted into a scowl. Ivar was always leaving him behind, babying him. Perhaps at one time he’d been flattered to be the man’s prized possession, but in recent years he’d come to loathe it. Ruva knew he was simply going after the wolf so his brother would not hear of it and take its head before him anyways. He wanted the prestige, is all. 

He kicked at a rock and turned to find Solvej securing the dead chief whom they’d found some way to draped over the horse. His eyes soon became fixated on the bow and arrows Kalf had discarded while assisting Solvej. Kalf glanced back at him, fixed him with a glare when he noticed how he’d been staring, “Ruva, don’t even think about-”

It was too late, however, the smaller male snatched the bow and hoisted the quiver over his shoulder, then took off into the forest. 

Kalf gave an exasperated sigh before hoisting himself on top of his horse. “Solvej, take the chief’s body back, I’ll get Ruva.”

The ever quiet Solvej nodded and Kalf went after the insubordinate man. He’d caught up with him easily, of course, pulling his horse around in front of him and pointing a finger accusingly. “Ruva stop this, Ivar will be fine. We’re going back, now.”

More shouting could be heard not far off, men giving frantic orders, and Ruva gestured towards the thicket of trees, “What if Ivar dies? Hmm? What then? His brother will blame all of you if you bring back the body of the chief and his brother today.”

“Ivar is strong, he will be fine. What is most important is bringing you back home.”

“You hear them, don’t you? Ivar’s father was stronger than any man, but he was defeated. If that beast can give a group of five trouble, then what difference will one more man make?”

Ruva could see it on Kalf’s face, how he battled between two conflicting thoughts. The man had been ever loyal to the brothers, putting their needs before his own, always. Now that the question of protecting Ivar or following his orders to leave had come up, he had a difficult choice to make. A long silence seemed to pass as Kalf considered his point, then he finally relented and patted the space behind him with a groan, “Okay, okay, climb on.”

Ruva’s face lit up with a wild grin, though he quickly tried to hide it. Saving Ivar? That man was not his priority. He was simply eager to do something, anything, other than waiting hand and foot for the prince. Seeing Ruva’s difficulty with mounting, Kalf offered him a hand and pulled him up. Once Ruva was seated, hands gripping onto Kalf, the man took off in the direction of the noise ahead. 

As they came closer to where the men clashed with the wolf, the sounds of pained screaming seemed to subsist. Kalf slowed the horse to a stop as they reached the clearing. Of the five who’d been sent to apprehend the creature, only two were still standing with Ivar not far off, shouting commands at them. Brave Gisla, despite being wounded at the shoulder, lunged at the wolf with her sword. It cut deep into the beast who was unable to bite back with how swift she was a creating distance between them.

One man sat in the blood-streaked snow, breathing heavily and holding his arm which hung limply, connected to the shoulder by a single strip of flesh with crimson still oozing out and voice hoarse from screaming. 

It seemed some horses had fled, for only three of those remained, panic-stricken but loyal to their owners. Ivar and his two companions surrounded the wolf. One of them, Ubbe, made an attempt to attack but monstrous paws sent him flying until his back hit a tree with an audible thud. The wolf jumped back from the group only at the sight of an arrow whizzing by.

“Give me that!” Kalf snatched the bow from Ruva, who uttered an apology for the thievery as he passed him the quiver as well. The item was better suited to him anyway, Ruva didn’t know the first thing about using a bow except for the little training he’d received years ago in secret from Ivar’s brother. The chief put a stop to that as soon as Ivar told him how displeased he was about what the two had been doing.

Kalf positioned an arrow and released it, sending it darting dangerously close by Gisla and straight into the shoulder of the beast, who howled in pain as the arrow sunk deep into the flesh. Ivar seized the opportunity then, slashing at the wolf with his sword. The beast reeled back before turning completely to run once more, having had its share of fighting for the day.

Ruva had slid off the horse right under Kalf's nose while he was focused on shooting at the fleeing wolf, but none of the arrows landed. Ruva came close to Ivar, grabbing his arm when he saw he was going to try to give chase on foot. He stopped in his tracks, panting in the wake of battle, breath creating a visible mist in the low temperatures. When he'd turned towards Ruva, the disapproval was clear on his face. He gave the man a shove, then shouted, "Why are you here?!" 

Ruva stared at him, dumbfounded, nearly falling as he stumbled back from the force of the push. He mustered up a reasonable explanation, "We came to help you."

Ivar went to yell at him again, but Ruva spoke before he had the chance, expertly concealing his own lust for battle, "Look around. Everyone is hurt and tired. Let's go back, Ivar."

With eyes narrowed and searching Ruva's face as if there would be something hidden in his expression, there was a long silence before Ivar relented and surveyed his surroundings. Though Ubbe seemed in pain, he lifted himself from the ground with a grunt, deciding he'd make himself useful to the prince. 

"Kalf, Gisla, Ubbe," Ivar gestured to each of them, "Get the three who are injured on horses and we will take them back." 

With that, Ivar approached his horse, a steely grey gelding with patches of white, and pet his snout while whispering kind words to him until he was calm. 

With Ivar distracted, Ruva ran to the man who was soon to be armless and knelt beside him. He'd already collapsed into unconsciousness in the snow. With his limited knowledge of medicine, Ruva slipped his knife from its holster. With the finely decorated sacrificial blade, he sliced through all that was left keeping the arm attached. The man was no longer bleeding, but the winter had made his body cold and he was unresponsive. Ruva cut a piece of cloth from his clothing and fastened it around the wound, thinking it may be a good idea to protect it from the elements. He was sure the man would not make it home alive, though. His breaths were shallow, almost undetectable, and the skin had grown pale as a corpse. 

Surely it had crossed Ivar's mind to abandon him in favor of those he was confident would survive, but even he would not risk being haunted by the man's spirit, who would no doubt be furious if his body was left in the wilderness to become food for creatures of the forest. 

A shadow loomed over Ruva then and he glanced up to see it was Kalf. He puffed out his chest and said smugly, "I was right. Ivar needed our help." 

Kalf snorted but didn't give any further response as he grabbed the unconscious man and hoisted him over his shoulder. Ruva abruptly stood up to follow him to the horse, "Don't be so rough with him!" Once he was draped over the horse, Ruva checked the cloth he'd fastened to his arm to make sure it was secure.

The rest of the injured, who were mostly unconscious and heavily bruised, one with bloody bite marks marring the skin at his abdomen, were strapped onto the back of the two remaining horses. Then the group made their way to the village, with those able-bodied walking along and leading the horses.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you guys find enjoyment in my work!~


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